The only excuse for making a useless thing
is that one enjoys it immensely;
All art is useless.

Friday, April 25, 2008


Because things don't always work out in the end. Guys cheat, hearts break, marriages don't last. Not every story has a happy ending, at least, not in real life. Not all girls are beautiful enough to have guys actually want them, and some girls end up not even getting married, let alone proposed to. It's sad, but unfortunately, it's true.


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Thursday, April 24, 2008


Hm...the pictures are making my page cheery. Here are some more pictures. Just random.










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I feel almost like I have a chronic fear of marriage. I'm completely aware of the fact that I'm far too young to get married anyway, but when the time comes, I'm almost dreading it. It's not the concept of love, and having a close relationship with someone like none other. It's the thought of divorce, and the loss of that once so strong love. Every B Day, I discuss topics such as these with my lunch friends, and it doesn't really help at all, it's just nice to know that other people have the same insecurities that I do.
I believe that love is real, I really do. I believe that once you find it, it can last forever. That the irrelevant and quaint crushes that I currently take part in having are just leading to the real thing. I also believe that finding that love must be extremely difficult. Is there only one other person in the world for me? And if I never find him? Will I have a lacking relationship, with an emptiness I can never understand, let alone explain? Can love be forced, if the person is willing enough? I want that deep love that lasts forever, one where he will love me just as much, and all jealousy of past relationships can be left behind. A love that is so strong that we will only see each other, ignoring the beautiful people that surround us because we know each other's heart, each other's soul. A love that will never falter, a love that may have its shortcomings, but in the end will vanquish all misgivings. In other words, I want the perfect romance. So many marriages end because of cheating and lying. So many remain together even though the love has long past faded. I don't want to marry the love of my life, only discover after 25 years of marriage that he's cheating on me with a more beautiful woman, a more slender one, more more more. I want a husband who will remain faithful and loving, one that I will keep loving, who will think of me as perfect, even if I am not the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. Only shallow relationships are based off of looks. The way a person looks may be what first attracts their partner, but personalities and thoughts are what really join the two in harmony.
I worry about myself. I worry that I'm shallow and flighty, eager to move on to the next hot thing, guy-wise. I worry that I'll think I'm in love, but after only a few months of marriage I'll get bored and want to move on. And then I worry that I'll be the one so enamored with my spouse, and he'll be the one that gets bored and files for the divorce shortly after we get married.
My parents seem as though they were never especially fond of each other, which could be a base of my insecurities on love. Neither dated around all that much, so how could they completely tell that they were meant to be together? The way that my dad proposed was neither romantic nor clever. They made a decision to get married with 'mutual agreeing'. He didn't even have a ring. I hear the sappy, corny, but oh-so-adorable stories of romantic engagements, and all I have to say is, "Oh, they agreed to get married." My dad didn't even end up buying her the ring! Her dad had to buy it! All due to my grandpa (Dad's dad) and his moronic stinginess. Or frugality, in nicer terms. As of now, they hardly touch. It seems as though they are still together because that's the way they think it should be. If my dad tries to kiss my mom, she claims that he's 'hurting' her and shies away. I want my marriage to be more close than that.
I guess all that I'm trying to say is that, I want to find a lasting love so that I don't get hurt in the end.


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Monday, April 21, 2008


the shadows and sunshine beat fervently against the eggshells of protection shielding my pupils, trying in vain to pierce their vision. wispy wind lazily drawls, attempting to pull the thin layer of warmth from my chilled shoulders. a faint whiff of new cherry blossoms flirts lightly with my nose, before flitting off to a new lover. my feet move to a memorized course, rhythmically plodding at a steady beat. music of the birds floats dreamily in the airy, sunny air, uplifting and praising.
spring has come.


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Sunday, April 20, 2008


Might as well write about the event I had to go to. I talked to Mr. Watson sometime this last week to ask him when and where it was, seeing as I had never gotten the letter containing the dates of the concerts and crap. He said it was at the Rose Wagner hall at 7:00, but I should be there at 6:45. Today, at about 5:30, I started panicking about whether he was just pulling my leg about the place, because it seemed too nice for our orchestra to play there. I was worried I'd show up, clad in all black carrying a large, cased instrument only to discover there was no concert, or at least no concert with me in it. I'd go to school and get upset at Watson, and he'd say "What, you actually believed that?"
Worried, I confronted my mom, and she said to call a girl in my section. I did, and her mom answered. When I asked her if Sarah was there, she said she was already at the concert, because we were supposed to be there at 5. I thanked her, hung up, and freaked out. We got there at about 6:30, and I practiced with my orchestra. Turns out the concert tonight actually had all three orchestras in the group playing, and at the end we were going to play two pieces together, one of which I had never received. The two pieces were actually really pretty, and I stand partnered with a guy from the older group. He actually went to my junior high when I was in seventh grade, and he's the older brother of Christian, who's in my school orchestra. Speaking of Christian, he said that my dad had the most awesome hair ever. When I asked him how he knew who my dad was, he said that it was because he was with my mom. I asked him how he knew who my mom was, he said it was cause she was the only Asian woman in the room(which is hard to believe). I asked him how he knew my mom was Asian, and he said he just did. Odd. Anyways, I asked him why he thought my dad's hair is awesome, and he said something about it being a comb over. I have no idea why anyone would ever think that's awesome. It's not even a comb over, my dad's not bald enough to be... fortunate enough to have one.... Odder.


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He didn't even show up. The last time I was ever going to see him until (maybe) after summer, and he didn't even show up. Tonight was the last concert of the year, and Daniel was supposed to be there. His sister was, his twin brother and mother were in the audience, but he was no where in sight. I guess I didn't matter enough for him to attend. I don't see why I thought I did, but for awhile there I thought we were at least good enough friends for him to want to see me one last time before the season let off. Sarah, Megan and Isaac were constantly teasing us for flirting--which in my case, I was guilty of--and he let them know that he liked a girl (Governor Huntsman's granddaughter)at his school. I told them I liked someone who I really, honestly don't from my school. They still made fun of us, and I wondered if they really thought we liked each other. It would have been nice, but apparently isn't so. I should stop having high expectations when all they lead to is disappointment and hurt. Maybe I should become a Mormon nun and live in a cave somewhere (by myself) in the Himalayas, singing hymns every ten minutes and devoting my life to the Book of Mormon and prayers.


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Sunday, April 13, 2008


I don't want an Edward Cullen. I don't understand why anyone would, really. I mean, he's so...perfect. Who wants their boyfriend to be perfect? Him standing next to you would make you look so...plain. And besides, imperfections are what make people beautiful. I've always thought that scars and freckles are cute. They show that the person actually does things, goes in the sun, is reckless enough to get their imperfections. If I were to be around Edward Cullen, I'd feel like the ugliest thing to be dropped on the face of the Earth.


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Saturday, April 12, 2008


The land of my dreams is barren, almost devoid of all life-forms, with the exception of the occasional friend that has apparently been within my self-conscience. They can be so inexplicably random and uncomprehendable that I often wonder what runs through my mind unwillingly. They affect my reactions in real life, without me consciously agreeing.
Strangely, I'm beginning to accept it.


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What an odd emotion I'm currently experiencing. It's not even like an emotion, but...a state of mind. I feel sort of at peace, yet restless. Celina and I are currently in an unrequited obsession over a beautiful senior at Skyline, hence my last entry. This emotion that I'm going through is so... different, it's like this bubble in the pit of my stomach, enlarging at the thought of him, and depleting considerably at the realization of how different his world is from mine, how he most likely doesn't even remember me, how he is so attractive in so many ways that much more beautiful girls are probably trailing after him also.
-I met him at Joe's birthday party, last summer: the summer of 2007. I think the date was August 6th, a Monday. Joe's brother invited his friend to join us for Raging Waters, whose name was Patrick. Beautiful. As soon as he shed his shirt, all the other guests were left drooling. Well, probably only Celina and me because everyone else was a boy... besides Joe's mother, but really, it'd be inappropriate for her to be lusting after her son's friend. Anyways, it was shocking that such an appealing creature would be friends with Scott, brother of Joe, both of which are... not exactly eye-catching. Unless you're thinking how...freckly they are. And how they look exactly like Bobby Brady, which they should, seeing as he's their father. That's not the point. Wonder boy was amazingly hot, pardon the crude term, and I was practically in lust. He spoke little to us, but when he did, I was left panting. First, Celina and I were lying in our inner tubes soaking up the sun's rays. He asked us if we spoke Spanish. Celina is a Francais girl, while I'm an Espanol, so I said that I did. He spouted off some phrases which I had no clue what the meanings were. I, being clueless asked "Huh?" and he laughed and walked off. Oh gosh, cute AND bilingual.
-The party was great, and Celina and I got thirsty, so we bought some fruity slushy drinks, I think called 'Fruze' or something. Celina's flavor was Raspberry and mine was Strawberry Banana. It was more banana than strawberry, and tasted like badly mixed flavored fructose, which it probably was. I was complaining about how it tasted like crap. Patrick asked if he could have a taste. Of course I let him, who wouldn't want those lips touching the same straw your lips did? It was practically like kissing! Except for not at all!! I almost kept the straw. Almost. I forgot about it and threw it away.
-Our last encounter is hardly something to party about. He was playing with my sunglasses, and dropped them. One of the lenses got a crack in them. Woo hoo, broken sunglasses. Sad thing is, I still have them.
-Since then, I've practically forgotten about him, then gained a new found interest. Joe got a myspace, which meant that I found his brother's myspace (ew, he has pictures of girls clad in bikinis), which meant that I found Patrick's. It's almost like Patrick is self-conscious because he has no pictures of himself, aside from some blurry shot of his eyes and nose. I don't see why. There's something about his nose that I find so attractive. It's got a bump in it, and it's so... characteristic. Plus he actually READS. And his interests don't have the word "Girls" in it once. That has to be one of the first times I have ever witnessed that. And he writes POETRY! POETRY. And does photography. It's probably really creepy that I know all this, but I'm sorry. When I get into things, I get REALLY into them. Therefore research them more than I do topics for school essays. The most depressing thing is that I will probably never see him again, because by the time I'm in high school he'll be long gone, graduated and gone beyond.


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he's aglow with the musty morning light, mouth hanging slightly open in the effort of concentrating on the beat. their music is promiscous, abounding in hard rock and light indie, almost painful to listen to but strangely satisfying at the same time. his cheeks are red, imitating a cherry in it's stage before ripeness. he spares glances to no one, only having eyes for the drums before him, his hands clutching at the sticks creating the whimsical rhythm. strands of his hair of sand are dancing drunkenly throughout the circumference surrounding his head; lilting methodically.


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Friday, April 11, 2008


Why is it that the elderly pray longer than the young? Is it because, since they have lived longer, they have more to be thankful for? Is it because they know they will be meeting God soon and they want to atone for their sins? Perhaps it's because through their long lives, they have perfected the art of conversation, discovering more to say to Him, more to ask of him. Or perhaps they are lonely and have no one else to talk to. Maybe they are being selfless and praying for others' blessings and safety. Maybe they are praying for a painless death that doesn't leave their families mourning them for ages. Maybe they're praying that someone will even remember them after they're gone. Or, on another thought, maybe I'm just assuming that all of the elderly pray longer than I do because all the ones that I know do. Maybe the majority pray for less time, or no time at all, than I do.


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Tuesday, April 8, 2008


I think I'm the most insecure person in the world.
I'm always thinking that I'm having problems with my friends, when in reality, I'm not. Like right now for instance. Ha, you're probably thinking "Oh boy, here comes the useless drama." Well, you're right.
Anna is one of my best friends, we got really close over last summer after knowing one another for about two years. About 4 months ago my mom announced to me that I was going away to Korea for the summer. For three effing months. When I told my pals, they were all dissapointed, Anna saying "Who am I gonna hang out with now?" For some reason, I think the vacation is putting an emotion rift between us. She's started getting more attached to other people, and leaving me behind. My mom doesn't really let me hang out with her, or anyone, much. Today at lunch, she, Emma, Celina and I were walking and Emma went to the bathroom. Celina and I were hungry and Emma was taking awhile so we asked Anna if she was going to come with us. She said "I can't leave Emma alone!" We ended up waiting for her. But no, every single day that I have lunch with her, she and Emma leave me behind after the bell rings to go back to orchestra. Way to play favorites. Also at lunch, Anna was talking about how she'd so much rather eat lunch in Mr. Wightman's art room because Amanda and Alysha were in there. Way to make everyone feel oh so loved. She said that she has to be better friends with other people so that when I leave this summer she'll have people to hang out with, and I jokingly said "Why not treasure your time with me?" but not so jokingly, to which she replied "Well, your mom won't let you." So I can't hang out with her every single weekend. It's not like I'm abandoning her willingly to clean my room. This really shouldn't matter so much to me, and I know I'm being self-centered and pitying, I should understand her need to broaden her horizons and to have friends to be around over the summer. I just feel like all of my close friends are leaving me for better people. What's wrong with me?


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Saturday, April 5, 2008


Today feels like a very writey day. Maybe because it's gray outside. I tend to want to write more when the weather seems rainy. I feel as though after Lia told me about her depression problem my perspective in life changed a little bit. I feel a little bit less shallow, and I frown upon the girl I was in seventh grade: Obsessive with boys, obnoxiously loud, annoying. Funny, I don't feel like I'm even the same person. I really like my more recent story about Olivia and her mother dying because I feel it's more...deep than my story about Charlotte in Spain. While Olivia is woeful about her mother's death and is unwilling to let anyone into her heart to help heal it, Charlotte is a flitty, guy-loving girl, only caring to find a Spanish fling while other more important things are going on. Her situation is unrealistic, at least in my eyes. Three boys falling for her on one trip? Like that would happen to anyone. At least, like that would happen to anyone like me. With Olivia, she really does like Collin, but she doesn't want to admit it, because she finds his arrogance infuriating. He insists that he will become her friend and learn as much about her as he can, while she is sure that if he does find out what she's like, he'll no longer want to be around her. While she's telling herself that she simply doesn't like him, the real reason for her detachedness is that she's worried that she'll lose another loved one in her life. And who can really blame her? She's afraid of looking in the mirror because she looks like her mother, for crying out loud. Losing more people doesn't especially seem like the best healing method for her.


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I'm just starting to realize how little I really know. My sister has been one of my greatest role models in life; always doing well in school, trying to avoid conflicts with my mother, and very organized. All the things that I am not. She has been like a second mom to me, while my real mother is yelling at me, trying to get things her way, Lia is reasonable, trying to get the concluding result to favor in every one's opinion. Her motherly ways can be quite frustrating, and my temper often gets the better of me, seeing as I have anger issues. I always figured her as a cold, almost emotionless person, always collected and straight to the point. At times she can be goofy and a little hyperactive, but those times are rare, especially now. Today she told me why: She's suffering from depression, and all I do is aid in its destructiveness. She didn't say the latter, but I figure that my temper doesn't exactly help. She explained to me how when she was 14, she had depression but didn't tell anyone in the family because she worried that mom wouldn't have understood, which she probably wouldn't have. A cousin of mine is also depressed, and my mom chastises him for being 'weird'. Sometimes I just can't understand why she thinks it's okay to make fun of other people as long as they don't hear. Just yesterday I mentioned how I think a little half Chinese half American boy in our ward is so adorable and she replied that, No, he isn't because his mother is ugly. I told her that it was rude of her to say things like that, that she shouldn't, and how would she feel if someone said "Oh, Erin's mother is so ugly." In response, she said "I don't think that I'm ugly. But she is." I was so frustrated with her that I kept arguing, saying that even if the person doesn't hear you making fun of them, it's still considered a sin because you are voicing your unkind opinion of someone else without any need. She said "You ungrateful little girl. I'm taking you to the library and I don't even need to! I should kick you out of the car right now." Her logic seriously astounds me sometimes. Instead of admitting that it's rude to call people out on their personal appearances, she insisted that she was right and I was wrong and I simply "didn't understand". This really doesn't have anything to do with my original topic, so I'll return to that. Lia said that she had recovered from her depression when she was 14, but it had caused her to become detached and less confiding with mom. It had ruined their relationship, and had made things harder for her. I never realized how well I had it off, but my conversation with Lia really set things in a new light. Whenever my mom and I fight, my dad tends to side with me or at least try to calm us both down. She gets angry and says that he cares about me too much. Lia told me that when she was younger, dad would hit her and yell at her, while with me he's more gentle. I've come to think that maybe it's because after his experience with Lia, he realized what he had done was wrong and tried to be more fair with me. My mom learned no such lesson, although she's a little less strict with me. It's partially because she learned to accept that my grades will never be perfect, and that I will never bow down to her will. But Lia's life was much harder than mine is now. She even ran away from home her senior year, after a fight with my mom and dad. I don't really remember what happened, I was only in fifth grade, but she somehow ended up coming back home. Anyways, more with her depression. She said that she's had it for awhile, and that it's more a chemical unbalance more than anything else. Apparently, she's considered comitting suicide many times, which completely suprises me. I thought Lia was more put together than anyone I know. Goes to show that appearances are fooling.


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Thursday, April 3, 2008


It really sucks having beautiful friends. Last year, I overheard a girl talking to her friend. She was saying "Look, can I please just go to this alone? Whenever you and I are together, guys only notice you and don't care about me." I know how she feels. One of my closest friends is so pretty, and I feel like even when I'm having a good day, guys only look at her. Cars are always honking at her, and her reactions are always so natural. The only time I've had a car honk at me was when I went outside in my green flannel pajamas. Two cars honked. Sometimes they honk if I'm with her, but rarely when I'm alone. She can say things like "I think he likes me." so casually when I'm not nearly confident enough with myself to even think that. If a guy I know and she doesn't is flirting with me, he immediately stops and switches to her when she comes into the picture. I just feel so...irrelevant. Inadequate. Losery. Now that I'm finished with adjectives that make me feel bad about myself, I'll continue. For example, with Zach, he would flirt with me all the time, yada yada, but she started art lessons too, and he flirts with her now. She unconciously flirts back, and she never realizes. How do I know this? She told me. I wish I was near pretty enough to compete with her.


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Funny, it seems that guys and girls were meant to clash. Guys are really unsensitive to girls' feelings, like "Man, your sister is hot." And girls are really touchy, like "What is THAT supposed to mean?!?!" Someone up above must be laughing as he watches us bicker uselessly


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